


Black of day, dark of night

by Steena



Series: The pound 'verse [3]
Category: Transformers (Bay Movies), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Attempted Escape, Capture, Coercion, Corruption, Nightmares, Non-Consensual Fingering, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, Rape, Slave Trade, Slavery, Slaves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-17
Updated: 2018-08-17
Packaged: 2019-06-28 20:18:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15714351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Steena/pseuds/Steena
Summary: "Hurry up Cade, we need ta go!" Jazz hisses.The Saleen scrambles to obey. It feels strange with all this speed and power."I picked up on their signal dampeners early on, but I've no contact with tha others." Jazz grinds out. "We were plannin' on evacuating ya ta Earth soon, but apparently they caught on to us, so we need ta go now."Jazz folds into his altmode, and Barricade follows suit for the first time for a very long time. It's somewhat awkward and stunted, but he makes it, and they speed through the morning traffic. It would feel glorious to drive again if they weren't being hunted.Awake or asleep, there's always room for Barricade's functioning to haunt him with terror in the form of flashbacks, apprehension and nightmares. Set in the early days after Jazz bought him.





	Black of day, dark of night

Of course they would strike against Jazz first. He's decidedly the most dangerous of all the Bots surrounding Prime. One second, his Master is sprawled out on the couch, a picture of lazy ease, the next he's a flurry of activity.

"Cade, get over here!" He barks, a sharp order unlike anything he has ever said to the Saleen.

A data cable is held out, and even though Barricade's spark is spinning out of control when he sees the look on his Master's faceplates, he plugs it in anyway.  _He doesn't dare anything else_.

It isn't like their usual hardlines, Jazz barges through his systems like a battering ram, quickly accessing what he wants. Barricade is stunned to see his t-cog get activated, his hydraulic pressure be restored and his guns come back online.

"Let's roll." Jazz bites out, sharp and focused.  _Terrifying._

He follows his Master down the stairs, out the back door and through the alley. In the street, he sees the enforcers,  _special forces units_ , getting ready for an extraction. He slows down as he watches the preparations,  _the heavy weaponry they're carrying._

"Hurry up Cade, we need ta go!" Jazz hisses.

The Saleen scrambles to obey.  _It feels strange with all this speed and power._

"I picked up on their signal dampeners early on, but I've no contact with tha others." Jazz grinds out. "We were plannin' on evacuating ya ta Earth soon, but apparently they caught on to us, so we need ta go  _now_."

Jazz folds into his altmode, and Barricade follows suit for the first time for a very long time. It's somewhat awkward and stunted, but he makes it, and they speed through the morning traffic.  _It would feel glorious to drive again if they weren't being hunted._

He cannot help but think about how they stick out like a sore thumb with their Earthen altmodes among the Cybertronian vehicles, driving much faster than the other mechs going down the street.

In front of him, Jazz suddenly transforms, rolling onto his back and Barricade's tires squeal as he slams on his breaks to not careen into the Spy. An enforcer comes flying through the air, pouncing on Jazz, and the Spy sends the mech flying with a kick. Then the cavalry arrives and they're surrounded. Barricade transforms back, fighting viciously for his freedom. 

They're outnumbered, but most of the enforcers focus on Jazz, apparently considering him the worst threat.  _Rightfully so._  Jazz is completely vicious when he fights, and Barricade is thankful to be on the Spy's side. His Master is punching, kicking and stabbing the enforcers with brutal efficiency, not caring what kind of damage he does. Still, the enforcers slowly wear him down, as more cops joins the fray. Barricade fights wildly, tries to help his Master, but to no avail. They're too many.

"Barricade,  _go!_ Ta tha spacebridge, someone will be there."

"What about you?" Barricade asks.  _Can he do this on his own? He's useless._

"Better tha' one of us gets out than none." Jazz grunts, taking a hard kick to his ventral plating.

The enforcers still aren't aware of Barricade being fully functional. He lands a hard hit on the neck-cables of one of his captors, making him lose the grip on the Interceptor. The other one is quickly dispatched with a shot to the helm with a gun they counted on being inactive. Then he's free to transform, gunning his engine to get a head start.

He hears the ruckus behind him as the enforcers try to apprehend Jazz, the shouts about if they should go after Barricade or not, but he doesn't look back.  _It won't do him any good, and surely Optimus will get Jazz out._

If they come after him, he never sees them, running fast and hard, drifting his turns, and he skids up onto the departure pad of the spacebridge with his spark spinning in hopeful nerves.  _He's going to be free!_

The pad is strangely empty and he transforms to root mode, looking around for any signs of anyone from Optimus' crew.  _He can't operate the spacebridge._

The doors to the control room crashes open and Crosshairs comes tumbling out, landing in a heap on the ground. The Sniper turns over slowly to his back with a groan and then a couple of enforcers come out. They stare at Barricade for long seconds and he stares back, unwilling to realize that they're too late, that they won't make it to Earth. Then one of the enforcers shoots him with a stun grenade and Barricade buckles to the ground, frame twitching from the electric shock.

His frame is entirely uncooperative, but he sees what's going on.  _He wishes he couldn't._

"Sniper, eh? Explains why you're such a worthless fighter: you hit from far away, like a fragging  _coward_." One of the enforcers sneers at Crosshairs, kicking him in the side.

The Paratrooper tries to crawl away, but the mech grabs his coattails and pulls him back, kicking him in the ventral plating to turn him over. Crosshairs coughs and warbles in pain, curling in on himself.

"We're not done here." The other enforcer smirks.

"Hey boss! Can we have a little fun with this one before we book him?"

"Which one...  _Oh_ , hehe. Absolutely, he's the little slut the Prime kept around for his soldiers' entertainment. He probably didn't even come with a seal in the first place." A bigger mech, wearing a Commander-insignia, comes out from the control room and comes to a stop to loom over the Paratrooper.

"Found one of their slaves too." One of them says, pointing over his shoulder to where Barricade is still twitching after the shock.

"Perfect. The other units are reporting successful apprehensions so far too."

They grab Crosshairs, rolling him to his back and the Sniper struggles to free himself. One of the enforcers pins his wrist-struts above his helm, the other presses the Sniper's thighs down with his knees.

"Wha' are ye  _doin_ '? Let  _go_ of me!" Crosshairs snarls, increasing his struggling.

"If you want to be with the Cons, you must want to be treated like one, right?" The Commander sneers derisively.

The mech sitting on Crosshairs' legs strokes the Paratrooper's interface panel and Barricade feels his tanks turn. It's all too familiar to him, but actually seeing the moment when comprehension dawns on Crosshairs as he realizes what's about to happen, that second when he can't deny it anymore, is truly terrible.

A digit squeezes into the seam and the plate is torn away without any preamble. Crosshairs cries out, but the panel is thrown to the side and the enforcer shoves two digits into the Paratrooper's valve.

"No!  _Stop_  i'! I'm an  _Autobot_! Ya can't do this!" Crosshairs snarls, wriggling under the mech to no avail.

"Planning to help convicts to flee to a planet with no extradition treaty is a felony. Since they're convicted of treason, that makes you guilty of treason, punishable by slavery for the rest of your functioning. You're a  _slave_ , Crosshairs, you have no rights. Slaves should always be accompanied by a handler who can inform others if what services the slave offers and what's off limits. You're not." The Commander informs the Sniper.

"I'm no' convicted yet! I'm no' a  _slave_! Ye  _bastards_! Let go of me!" Crosshairs shouts, panicking.

"You're a traitor and we're enforcers. Do you really think any defender would take the case? I mean, you  _want_  this, you slut." The mech still fingering the Paratrooper says with a nasty smirk. "Right, mechs?"

"Oh, he's totally willing."

"Yes, laying there on his back, just  _begging_  for more." 

"You see? Two witnesses with high credibility backing me up, while the Con-loving traitor has no witnesses."

Then the mech grabs Crosshairs' hips and pulls the Corvette into his lap, hilting himself in the still unaroused valve. The Sniper tries to pull his arms free, tries to buck to get away, crying with every thrust that bottoms out at a brutal pace.

Barricade purges. He knows all too well how it feels, that first time someone forces themself on you, and his tanks are roiling with fear and disgust.

The mechs switch places, another unwanted cock sliding into the Paratrooper and Barricade starts sobbing.  _If they can do this to the Autobot, he can't even guess what they're going to do with a Decepticon slave who shot an enforcer._

His frame starts to cooperate more and more, but the Commander sees him moving. The mech just walks up to Barricade and kicks him over on his front, cuffing him. The Interceptor hears a blip from somewhere at the back of his neck.

"Your shock collar is connected to my remote now. Don't try anything funny."

_He'll never be free again._

Numbly, he stares as the second mech overloads in Crosshairs, the Paratrooper limp by now, optics dim as he stares off into the distance. They drag him to his pedes and Barricade is grabbed too, both of them thrown in the back of a transport. 

They don't speak.

_What could they possibly say?_  Barricade knows that whatever he can utter won't make Crosshairs feel better after  _that_. Words of reassurance is worthless, feels hollow in his vocalizer, because they truly have no hope left for getting out of this horror now.

Sometime,  _a long time ago,_  Barricade would've laughed and wallowed in the poetic justice of the mech who captured him, thus responsible for what Barricade has been forced to suffer, being used and humiliated like this.

Now though, vindictiveness leaves a bitter taste, because the mech was only put in that situation because he tried to help the Interceptor to get a decent life.

But his contemplation is cut short when the transport stops and they're pulled out, pushed by guards through the hallway he recognizes as the prison where they were first kept after their capture. They stop to scan Barricade, to check that he's someone already in the system, and Crosshairs is dragged ahead.

The Saleen can't help the hopelessness seeping in.  _He was having something decent, even before he knew of the plans the Autobots were making_. Now, it's very unlikely that he will ever be treated fairly again.

The guard starts pushing him forward again and he numbly obeys.  _They'll do what they want anyway._

They pass a big cell with several Decepticons, the state of their frames and the lack of shock collars showing that they're newly brought in. Barricade glances at the massive Warframes as one of them whistles.

"Hey, I know you! I've seen you in a movie. What was it, the flightframe and the easy patrol officer?" The mech leers.

The other Decepticons crowd the steel bars, interested now that they've gotten a hint at what he has figured in. Barricade locks his optics on the floor.  _The entire universe must know what a cheap whore he is by now._

They reach the next cell, the Autobots he has come to know chained up by the wall, along with their slaves, their interface panels open.  _Even Prime is there._  Barricade's optics find Jazz, the Spy dented and scratched, wrist-struts cuffed and chained to the ceiling, leaving him on the tips of his pedes. He looks dismayed when he sees Barricade.

Crosshairs is being chained up, still crying and Barricade expects to be the next in line.

"Barricade! What a  _treat_!"

The Interceptor freezes, terrified and in denial at the same time.  _It can't be happening. It just can't._

He slowly turns his helm to look behind him, just to look away as quickly as he can in absolute horror.

"Come here, Barricade."

He obeys. Of course he does, even over the furious shouting from the Autobots.

"Ya fuckin' bastard! Leave him alone!"

"Barricade! Don't do it!"

Barricade comes to a stop in front of the mech, optics on the floor.

"He doesn't deserve this!"

"My, you have quite a following here. But you really are in a league of your own in berth, so I guess it isn't surprising that you're their favorite whore." The mech murmurs to him, stroking Barricade's helm in a way someone would pet a cyberhound they're fond of.

The mech presses a sharp talon under Barricade's chin, forcing the Interceptor to look at him.

"You look good, Barricade. No wonder you have gotten so many fans." He gestures to the cell with all the Cons.

They're staring at him with bright optics, a mech he has never seen before doing lewd gestures with his glossa. Somebot is stroking his spike.

"You should go and take care of them." The mech says loudly, patting Barricade's aft encouragingly.

_He can't stop himself._  Even though the Autobots are shouting to him to stop, to not do it.  _He knows what kind of pain the mech can put him through if he's disobedient._

With slow and hesitant steps, he's allowed to leave the cell. The guard smirks nastily and opens the door to the cage the Cons are kept in, letting him inside the cyberwolf pen.

"Don't damage him too badly." His Master says to the Decepticons.

The Cons close in on him and Barricade opens his panel.  _No point in having it torn off._

He's shoved to his servos and knees and he goes easily.  _It's what the rest of his functioning is going to be anyway._

When a spike is shoved inside, he glances back to the other cell.

_Jazz's cuffs are unhooked from the chain and his first Master is pulling the struggling Spy to the bars._

"Look at him, Jazz. This is why you bought him, wasn't it?"

"Wha'?!  _No_ , I..."

"No? All the porn found at your place suggests otherwise..."

The mech holds Jazz stretched against the bars with a strong servo around the cuffs, and he kicks a suitcase open.

_It's all there._

All the recordings, all the pictures Barricade knows has been taken, and more. The Interceptor cries as he sees the pictures of himself riding toys and spikes, sucking and being fucked every way possible.

_Jazz knew, Jazz has seen it all. It's why he bought him._

A spike is shoved up his port and Barricade cries out in pain.  _He hasn't been fucked in a long time_. The Interceptor's optics are locked on where his Master is sliding his digits through Jazz's folds, the Spy squirming but his vents quickening to a ragged panting.

"Look at him, taking it in the port like a little pleasurebot. You wanted that, didn't you? That way he just allows anyone to frag him anyway they want."

"No!" Jazz shouts, but his voice hitches.

"Sure you didn't. That's why you're getting so charged by seeing him do the only thing he's good at."

Barricade feels the mech finishing, pulling out and leaving room for the next mech. The next spike slides into his valve, but his optics are riveted to Jazz.

His Master is whispering in the Spy's audial, digits working Jazz's valve and Barricade can see how Jazz's visor is locked on him, how the Spy's hips are jerking.

_Jazz overloads._  Still staring at Barricade being fucked by mechs he doesn't want.

Then the Spy drops to his knees, lapping at Barricade's Master's spike cover, servos trailing up the mech's thighs. 

"I want this one too." His Master says and the guard makes a note in a datapad.

His Master's spike pressurizes straight into Jazz's intake and the Spy starts sucking.

Then Barricade is distracted as another spike is pressed into his valve, while one mech grabs his audial fin to hold his helm in place while rutting into his intake. Barricade whines around the spike, so damned  _hopeless_ , just wishing his Master will be satisfied and let him out of there.

"You did good, Jazz! Let's get you that  _reward_."

"Finish up!" The guard barks, and the mechs fragging Barricade speeds up, chasing their overloads.

"You're even better in reality." One of them hisses as he pulls out and shoves Barricade to the floor.

"Barricade, get in here." His Master says.

He slowly gets up, feeling so broken and used, worse than in a long time.  _He never truly appreciated the lack of rape and violence. Maybe because he's such a worthless whore, he needs it?_

He comes to stand in front of his Master and the Spy, optics on the floor.

"On your knees and servos over there, so you can see what a slut you are." His Master says.

Barricade walks over to the suitcase, getting down on all fours where he can see the piles of pictures of him with spikes or toys in every hole, in every position thinkable, and some unthinkable.

"You should frag him in the aft. I know that's what you want, Jazz."

Jazz comes to kneel behind him, stroking Barricade's hips in a way that would be arousing if it was made by a lover.

"It's a shame it had ta come ta this, tha' I did'na jus'  _take_  ya. Like I rightfully could." Jazz hisses.

Then the Spy pushes his cock into Barricade's ass, ridges so big, they can't be anything but modifications, and Barricade starts crying in pain, in humiliation and betrayal, staring at all the pictures of what he is.

_Barricade onlines abruptly, sitting up with a gasping invent. His plating is covered in condensation and he's shivering._

It takes him a few seconds to orient himself, to realize where he is.  _In his berth, safe in his own room._  The Saleen turns a light on, eager for the sense of safety it brings.

_It doesn't really help._

His room is still in Jazz's apartment. Is he really safe here?  _Will he ever be safe?_

The Interceptor curls up, pressing his faceplates against his knees, hugging his legs.  _He's never going to recharge again_.

**Author's Note:**

> When Barricade's first Master says "Barricade! What a treat." I just can't help but imagine his voice sounding like James Spader playing Reddington in Blacklist.


End file.
